


the lap of luxury

by orphan_account



Series: desert lore [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 13:55:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1228933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were times when he wouldn't see his mistress for weeks on end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the lap of luxury

**Author's Note:**

> AU: queen!tharja, dancer!inigo. take "dancer" with a grain of salt.

There were times when he wouldn't see his mistress for weeks on end. Those were the days where he snuck into her chambers to rifle through her extensive closet, admiring airy scarves that shimmered like heat waves and cloaks that moved like dry drought winds, running his hand over silky see-through sheaths, angling elaborate jewelry under the window so that they reflected the sunlight just so.

When she returned, she never made seeing him her first priority. She had Plegia's largest clan of magic users to tend to-- inter-clan feuds to settle and the wayward disgruntled shaman always kept her away for a few more days even as she returned to her regular chamber each night, the chamber Inigo can't help but dream about from his living quarters in the servants' area.

Finally, when the usual messenger summons him to her chambers, he knows that the wait was well worth it.

"Come." Her voice is terse; he recognizes signs of stress and mentally braces himself for what he is sure will be a grueling session. She gestures to a pile of cushions on the ground and he hastily steps over to them, not yet taking a seat.

He stays standing. Save for the sound of his slow breaths and her occasional sigh, silence permeates the air. She examines him thoroughly with an ample amount of physical inspection-- it's almost as if she expects him to have deteriorated over their weeks apart, but her satisfied smile at the end reveals that no such thing has taken place. Leaving him standing, she slips into her sprawling closet, and he shivers when he sees what she returns with.

It's almost as if she could read his mind--he wouldn't be surprised if she had--and knew exactly what he had been up to in her absence. He bites back a squeak of surprise when she drapes a sheer, gold-trimmed shawl over his shoulders, not daring to question her motives.

She adjusts the shawl, steps back, and looks pensive. "...For now, this will do. Take off your clothes."

Nothing he hadn't heard before. With anticipation building in every corner of his being, Inigo complies, stripping off his usual attire until he stands, shivering just slightly, in his undergarments and the shawl. She takes a second to stare at his physique--he wouldn't call it _admiring_ , per se--before retrieving another garment from the closet, this time an ensemble clearly Plegian in origins: sheer, skin-fitting black fabric laced with gold accents and loincloth that did its job just enough to not seem like a formality, all topped off with the shawl draped around his torso. These clothes were _meant_ for him; he could already imagine how comfortable they would feel against his skin while dancing.

The most he can do to express his gratitude in his speechless state is lift an arm here or adjust a cinch there to help fit himself into the outfit, which fits perfectly. Tharja allows him a moment to take in the rich fabrics and indulge in a few twirls, then administers the command he's been waiting for:

"Dance for me."

And so he does. She's no queen by conventional standards, but to Inigo she is regality personified.

**Author's Note:**

> this is cygnus's fault.


End file.
